


Three Interesting Things About Angels

by wolfy_writing



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:24:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfy_writing/pseuds/wolfy_writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing what you can learn over a bottle of wine. Spoilers through S3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Interesting Things About Angels

I know three interesting things about angels.

Not the fluffy greeting-card nonsense. Not pink cherubs. And not the superstitious lucky-amulet stuff they practice around here. The real stuff.

The hard stuff.

Speaking of which, mind waving to the serving wench? I could do with a drink.

Not that they have any hard stuff these days. It’s beer or wine. Hard liquor hasn’t been invented yet.

Do you want to know? I can tell you. But don’t repeat it to your friend. I’d rather not deal with him. Things are complicated enough.

Yes, I know who you’re with. Everyone knows. Why do you think they’re so afraid of you?

Okay then.

Sit. Have a drink. The wine’s good here. It’s only just gotten good.

First thing I know about angels is where they get their name.

The word “angel” comes from the Greek, “angelos”, by way of the Latin, “angelus”. Like on Buffy.

Yes, I’ve seen Buffy, too. You’re not the only one who’s traveled.

Never mind. It’s not important.

“Angelos” means “messenger”. That’s what they do. Carry messages. Run errands for God.

At least the obedient ones do. And the ones who can be made to obey.

You can ask your friend about how that works. Being turned into an errand boy. Kept on a short leash.

St. Augustine said “ _angelus est nomen officii_ ”. It’s the name of the office, not the being. A title. It describes their function. Their job.

Not their nature. They never give the name for that.

You’ll notice that if you read theology. You were talking about that at university, right? After you got back. That or medieval literature. Either one. They teach you this. The hierarchy of angels. The ranks are all words turned to titles. Dominions. Thrones. Principalities. Powers.

Power. ‘Elohim. Old Hebrew word. For angels. Sometimes translated as powers. Most etymologists will argue a blue streak, but there’s truth to it.

Powers. Right.

Another drink? There’s plenty left in the bottle.

The second thing about angels is how they fall. Fell. Whatever.

Time is not important. That’s a lie. It’s terribly important, but it doesn’t work like that.

How angels fell. I know everyone knows this story. But everyone worries about the wrong bits.

They always talk about Lucifer. Satan. Son of the morning.

Flash bastard.

It’s not all about _him._

See, he just wanted power. Dominion. And they cast him out. Into a pit so black and bottomless that no one should return.

Ask your traveling friend who let him fall.

Then he was loosed. For a little season to wreak havoc. Before being cast down again. That ended in fire. It’s supposed to be forever. Don’t bet on it.

You wouldn’t if you knew the one who cast him down.

He hates to let anything go.

Did we finish the bottle already? Another one then.

Come on. You’ll be moving on soon. And it’ll be a long time before you’re able to taste wine like this again.

Please. I could do with the company. I miss...never mind what I miss. You’ll learn.

Just stay. Drink. Please.

There’s an older story. About angels falling. Nephelim. The Sons of God marrying the daughters of men. Most people ignore it. No one knows quite what to make of it.

I know.

It’s amazing what you can learn over a bottle of wine.

There were giants on the Earth in those days. Heroes of old. Nephelim cast a shadow that’s ten feet tall.

Nephelim means ‘those causing others to fall’. You see what I mean now? How it’s not about Lucifer?

It’s about who dropped him.

Do you understand?

Damn. I spilled the bottle. Another one. We’ve got time.

I’ve got nothing but time.

The third thing I know about angels is how they kill.

I didn’t learn that in university.

Yes, I’ve been to university. Back when I was young. How do you think I know all this?

Well, some of it. Some was _in vino veritas._ It doesn’t _only_ work on humans. But I read theology and medieval literature.

What an interesting coincidence, indeed. I see you haven’t learned about those yet. Here’s to coincidences.

Medieval literature. Hah. Half of what I studied hasn’t been written yet.

And if I told anyone else what I know about angels, the church would burn me alive.

Angels are killers. Gentle assassins. Sad creatures, really.

So lonely, he once told me. Loneliest creatures in the universe. I don’t think he realized what he was talking about.

He said he was sorry. Later. He said he couldn’t save me and he was so, so sorry.

You’ll hear.

They don’t want to kill. Angels. They can’t avoid it. They need to.

Tragic, really. Almost classically tragic. It would make good drama. If it weren’t happening to you.

They need you, angels do. Your potential. All the days of your lives.

So they snatch you out of time, and take day after day. And you don’t feel dead, or lost, or like they’re eating away at your life. Maybe you find something where you are. Move on. Build a life for yourself.

But you’ve lost your home. Your family. Your life. You’re dead, and you don’t even know it.

The life you could have had. He takes it. He eats it. Whatever you could have been, whatever you were, he devours it. For himself. Because that’s what he need. Can’t you see what he’s...

Sorry. Sorry. Didn’t mean to...I’m drunk. Being stupid. Saying things I shouldn’t say. Telling secrets.

No, the stuff about angels isn’t secret. You can tell your friend that. Not that I told you, please. I’ve enough to hate him for. I’d rather not think he knew what was coming. But you can ask him about angels. About nephelim. About lonely assassins. About powers and errand boys.

See if he answers. You never know. He just might.

Try opening up a bottle of wine.

How do I know all this?

That’s a fourth thing. That’s cheating. I said three things.

S’okay, though. If you really want to know. Don’t tell anyone this part.

Especially not to your traveling friend.

An angel killed me once.

I nearly got away. I went home. I went to university. Moved on. I was so close...

But he came back. Because he needed. Couldn’t help himself. He snatched me out of time.

The angel killed me. Why do you think I’m here?

Go back to your friend. Have fun. See the universe. Enjoy it while you can. You should forget all this. About angels. About me.

But I know how this all ends. And I know you won’t.

* * *


End file.
